


No One to Bury Your Dead

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst Dean Winchester, Angst Gabriel, Angst Sam Winchester, Bonding, Dreams, Family, Friendship, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Meds, Nightmares, Portal - Freeform, Purgatory, Romance, Traumatized Dean Winchester, embracing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel's doing the best he can but really, he's only grasping at straws here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One to Bury Your Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the Season 7 Finale. Purgatory fic.  
> My other and much longer Purgatory story will be uploaded soon, decided to write something centered around Sam and Gabriel and how Dean's absence affects them before I finish editing it. Hope you like it, I suspect I'll be writing many more things about Purgatory. There's just so much possibility.  
> Soundtrack: Saturnus' 'I Long'  
> Rated M only for language and paranoia.

_~I long, I still long, I long  
I long so much away, from me, for me~_

 

Gabriel stares at the wall, would give anything for it to not be that dreaded off white color. Just to hallucinate once, see a glimpse of Dean for half a second would be enough. Just to brush his fingers against Dean’s own, it would sustain him. 

He can’t look away from the emptiness of the wall, if he does reality will hit him hard. As hard as that gut feeling he grudgingly received most likely at the same second Dean was gone. What else could explain it but the bond they so clearly have, forged through the months, the years that went by with only brief snapshots of each other before departure? The shock and sudden panic stilled his heart, stopped his breath and sent him reeling away from reality. He drew back inside his head, felt the vessel he had long since consumed squirm a little but then quiet, he was all too used to Gabriel after all. He searched, trying to call out to Dean, exchange thoughts. Gabriel had tried this before, with little success but there had been necessity to try again. 

Gabriel drew back out after precious moments, knowing nothing more than when he came in. His head sunk low in despair before focusing on finding Sam. He didn’t really want to though, he just wanted to be alone. Alone with his guilt. 

Dean was gone. He didn’t know how, he just knew that he was.

He never considered how he would feel in that kind of moment because he never wanted to, never had the guts to prepare for it because as far as he was concerned, it was his job to protect Dean Winchester. No ifs, ands or buts, no Sam getting in the way or Cas or anyone else for that matter. If he couldn’t protect Dean there was no use for him. Failing was never an option, and now he had failed him. 

Gabriel stormed out of the house he was currently in, allowed the rage he’d long since held back for so many reasons to come breaking through like a lightning storm. He sent trees flying into houses soon after he uprooted them from the ground with no more than a single thought, if that. Windows shattered around him as he walked, he couldn’t stop, he didn’t want to stop because without Dean it was all so fucking pointless. 

Staying here was all too fucking pointless. 

He was gone before anymore damage could be done to this world he had come to love. He felt so... abandoned. 

...

Gabriel’s hand could do no more than grasp Dean’s in his dreams, the vision slipped away as soon as the archangel felt the human’s love wrap around him like a blanket. He woke up to Dean’s screams, echoing throughout his head and sending his thoughts into a whirlwind of emotion. Humans were never meant to affect archangels, hell, they were never meant to fall in love with them in the first place. But here, even up in heaven, Gabriel couldn’t shake Dean or the weeks that had passed with no sign of him. 

Sleep wouldn’t come to him for more than an hour, and hardly was it worth it being tortured by all he and Dean had, all they could have still had. He didn’t miss anything but Dean, not even candy or cake crossed his mind and when he thought of it the familiar smells only made him gag. Without Dean there was nothing to enjoy, it was like all the color had been sucked out of his life, all the joy and warmth and comfortable silence. 

He couldn’t go back down there, not to Sam and the expectation that would no doubt be placed on him. Gabriel was already screaming bloody murder at himself enough, his head taunting him during every moment of silence, saying that he had fucked up, that it was his mistake, that he is the archangel and he is the only one to blame. He couldn’t return, not to the truth that Sam may have even moved on, that it was likely, just like he had with that bitch Ruby. Gabriel couldn’t move on, it was unthinkable. And so he wept for reprieve, forgiveness...

Hell, he sobbed his eyes out just for the heck of it, because there was nothing else to do. 

...

“You haven’t been drinking,” Gabriel eyes the youngest Winchester curiously, “have you?”

Sam shakes his head no and downs a couple pills with a glass of water. Gabriel should really know what they are but what right does he have to press? He needs some sort of coping mechanism, hell, Gabriel hasn’t even found one yet other than Sam, who he can’t dare show his emotions to for fear that he’ll be made fun of. Sam doesn’t scrutinize him though, he even wonders if Sam knows he’s there half the time, for how much his eyes and mind seem to wander. 

“So,” Gabriel sighs loudly, slamming down the cover of a book before flipping through another in boredom. “No leads, no inklings on how we could even get there, it’s been weeks. Weeks of sitting on our asses and doing nothing. Jeez, aren’t we a couple of sorry losers about to be extinguished by Dick’s wrath?”

“Don’t remind me,” Sam says quietly. Gabriel doesn’t even want to look up anymore at the pitiful sight he’s become, he sees it in the goddamn mirror too much as it is. “I know it’s been weeks, as far as I’m concerned I’m not giving up yet.”

“Who said I was? Though I have to say,” Gabriel motions towards the bottle of pills Sam keeps fingering nervously. “If you keep going on the way you are, I doubt you’ll survive for another week, much less find some way to get Dean out of the pit he and feather-butt have fallen into.”

“What about you?” Sam’s eyes flick up to his own. “Don’t you know more about Purgatory than any of us ever did?”

Gabriel shrugs, “Nah. All I ever heard was a bunch of old ass myths and legends way before your time, kiddo. They were just to scare people off, no bit of truth in them we need to be worried about.” Sam sighs at that and Gabriel almost wishes he had lied, said one little thing just to stop Sam from staring at the table and getting lost in his own maze of guilt and grief. 

“How’s about we get some real food? Pizza and soda, sound good to you?”

Sam doesn’t answer or even look up for that matter, he merely sits there like a bump on a log and stares at the pitiful scratched surface of the damn table Gabriel really wants to throw at the nearest wall. “Fine,” he quickly says, “I’ll be back soon. Maybe pick us up some donuts while I’m at it.” Yeah, like he could stomach those things at a time like this, he’ll be surprised if either him or Sam manage to get the pizza down and make it stay there. 

...

Sam hovers above him when his eyes slip open. He sits down cautiously at the end of the bed and Gabriel sits up, too concerned to feel annoyed by the invasion of privacy and interruption of sleep. 

“At least you dream about him. I don’t even get to sleep.”

“You should’ve told me, cause I can fix that.” He already starts reaching for the Winchester but he backs away too quickly, “Forget it. I don’t want any of your damn mojo. Just wanna be left alone.”

Gabriel sighs as Sam vacates the room, rubs a hand over his tired face and collapses back against the mattress. Normally, he wouldn’t need sleep but Dean’s absence is wearing thin on his state of mind and nerves. A nice long nap replenishes him and makes him more suited to watch over Sam like a hawk, which is the only thing he should be doing at this point other than thinking of ways to get Dean back to where he’s supposed to be, to where he belongs. At least, that’s what he tells himself to keep doing. That coming back for Sam was the best thing he could have done at this point. It isn’t something to regret, it’s something to be proud of. 

And making Dean proud, even if he’s not here to witness it, is what he wants to do. So he stays down here, on this planet, holding it together and brushing aside his loss to do it. Still, it never gets easier. No matter how many times he tries to contact Dean in his dreams, extend his grace out towards him, he only feels them slipping further away from each other. 

He tells himself that Sam wants him here. And maybe, just maybe, he actually does. 

...

He thanks his father that Castiel is with Dean more often than he breathes. He talks to Dean, meaningless words that mean nothing and have no hope of ever reaching him. It’s all to keep him sane, to wile away the endless hours of Sam moping around the motel room, pouring through dusty books, telling Gabriel he’d rather kill himself than move on. He goes out for food cause he’s so bored, starts taking longer naps, burning hot showers. Becoming human brings him closer to Dean, keeps that connection going strong. 

Even if Sam is staring at him like he’s just lit himself on fire, what else can he do? Sam’s not exactly Mr. Sane himself. 

“So,” the Winchester looks away from his latest book. “You said that if Cas were able to find a portal, that he could get him and Dean out?”

Gabriel nods, looking up at Sam’s suddenly hope-filled eyes. He doesn’t want to lie, it’s just about the last thing Sam needs right now, but he also doesn’t want to provide him with tons of hope, because not even he has that at this point. It’s been too long, months now and the longer they sit around and hope and pray and grieve, the harder it’s gonna be to get Dean back. 

“Yeah, it’s a possibility. But so many of them must be misleading, for all we know he could’ve walked them both into a trap.”

Even from this far off, Gabriel notices Sam shiver. He doesn’t blame him, a cold chill runs throughout his entire vessel as well. He walks over before he can convince himself not to and lays his hand on Sam’s arm, tries not to take it too personal when he brushes it away and turns back to the book. 

“Still.” Sam doesn’t look back up. “There’s a chance, that he’ll find the right one?”

“There’s always a chance, Sam.”

There always will be one for Dean. 

...

Not even four days later, Castiel manages to find the right portal and leads Dean out of the hell hole they’ve managed to trap themselves into for three and a half months. Sam nearly has a heart attack when he walks into the kitchen and notices the two on the floor, incredibly dirty and disoriented. Gabriel stumbles in almost directly after him and has to admit now he felt really lightheaded upon catching sight of Dean. 

It wasn’t just the fact that he was there, that they made no noise upon arriving or that the two were the strangest sight imaginable in their already strange enough lives. It’s that Dean is covered in grime and dried blood and who the hell knows what else. It’s frightening, to see his eyes latch onto Gabriel’s and appear to see nothing, his body completely held upright by Castiel due to his all too apparent exhaustion and pain. Deep lines of it are etched into his forehead yet his eyes hold nothing at all, not even pain. There is no recognition. 

It’s the archangel who takes the first move and walks over to Dean when Sam’s still standing there, frozen at the spot, just like Castiel is. Cas’s eyes land on his with recognition of who he is and where he is though, and Gabriel touches his shoulder in reassurance before Sam finally dares to take a step forward. 

Gabriel sits down directly in front of the human, allowing him to see nothing but the person who has waited for him, prayed for him for all this time. He begs silently for him to see all the love he’s emitting now, the hope that Dean will in time pull himself together and the archangel will help him in every way that he can. 

It takes a few minutes but finally Dean comes back, stumbles back into reality and falls forward into the archangel’s arms. And it’s finally then, amid the small and suddenly very crowded kitchen, that Gabriel finally feels peace. 

“You’re back, Dean. You’re back... we have you back.” He only glances at Castiel for a moment, sending out his thanks but the angel immediately reads it and smiles wearily, handing the human over to the archangel fully, collapsing back on the tile floor as his eyes finally leave Dean’s to wander around the room. Seeing Castiel, even if only for a moment, causes the archangel to shiver, knowing how much he doesn’t know about Purgatory, realizing the toll it no doubt has taken on the angel. The draining qualities the very atmosphere and lack of faith have on his father’s heavenly messengers. 

He would do anything to never experience it, and his heart goes out to Castiel for enduring this torment and simultaneously holding his mate together with every fiber of hope and adoration held within him. And yes, this is making him very goddamn sappy right about now. 

Gabriel hugs Dean tightly, not caring how tight, careless if it hurts too much. His hands clutch Dean’s back desperately, fingernails clawing at the shirt barely hanging onto him. His eyes close and tears leak out, he lets the world fade away for a beautiful moment as he focuses primarily on the human in his arms. He doesn’t need anything else but him and there is absolutely no shame in saying it. Dean lays both of his hands on Gabriel’s back, squeezes to let him know he’s back not only physically but mentally. 

Back for good. Gabriel will never let him out of his sight again. Dean’s in for a rude awakening if he thinks he can ever do anything without the archangel directly there with him again. He’s back. _I have him back._

“Please tell me Sam didn’t hook up with a demon while I was gone,” Dean rasps out. 

Gabriel only shakes his head and chuckles. Yep, he’s back and not to mention... just fine. 

...

Having Dean with him again, it almost feels too good to be true. Gabriel knows better though, he knows reality in the way in which Dean laughs at something he or Sam says, how carefree and flawless it sounds, that even if he wanted to fake it he wouldn’t be able to. Every time he feels Dean’s hands reaching for him in the dark, when they entwine their fingers as if they are eternal and not even the most brutal force could separate them, could brush them away even in the smallest amount, he knows that everything could have turned out to be a whole lot worse. 

Dean could have become catatonic; unreachable and like a zombie wandering the earth for far too long, stumbling over every rock and branch and incessantly mumbling the first letter of his name as he struggles to remember the rest of it and who he is. Not even fully grasping who he’s become. 

Shit, Dean’s been making him watch way too many zombie movies. Anyway...

He doesn’t take any of this for granted, which means he doesn’t leave for any reason, won’t even step outside if Dean’s not next to him. He knows how quickly Dean could leave him again, a snap of his fingers and he could possibly wake up in an empty bed with a drained heart, blood splattered on his pillow or tears or maybe nothing at all. He could walk out for groceries, yes, he does fucking do that now thank you very much, and walk back in and Sam would be collapsed on the floor screaming, like all those nights before his throat was so damaged he could hardly whisper a word to Gabriel, let alone continue to sob uncontrollably. 

Gabriel thinks about these things, they weigh heavily on his mind like the memory of Purgatory weighs on Dean’s, the horrific, inescapable imprint permanently etched into his skin, a haunting facade of a home he just might have had if Castiel had not found some way beyond all hope. 

So he clutches Dean close to him when separation feels permanent again and hope is too much like a vanquished flame in his chest. Dean doesn’t say a word when he gets like this, all quiet and cuddly, but the archangel knows he understands. The weight of his sorrow and responsibility Gabriel carried with him in his absence, he still carries. He doesn’t complain about chick flick moments or mother henning, he is simply there when the immortal wants him to be. 

There without a doubt in his mind. 

...

Then Gabriel remembers, all over again. When Sam crawled into his bed one night and clung to his back like a frightened child, the heavy feeling of guilt mingling with the remaining faith in his grace, the doubt of whether to turn over and disturb Sam or merely lay there and accept this extremely rare outcry of need. He chose the former and when Sam’s eyes followed his wherever they roamed, it was then that Gabriel froze, his eyes unblinking and head too heavy to feel real. 

“There’s no one to bury the dead,” Sam murmurs, as if lost in a dream. “So I’m forced to do it alone. Aren’t I?”

Dean and Sam. The latter’s thoughts on giving into loss, the one who has everything to lose and the latter, fighting for his life, a stranger in a strange land, severed from the only home he’s ever known; Sam, what the three of them have made, what Gabriel built up and fought to protect. However did he get himself into this mess in the first place?

“I will,” Gabriel promises. “I’ll be here to pick up the pieces. You’ll never go it alone, Sam. Together,” he swallows hard, “we’ll bury Dean. But not yet. Not while there’s still hope left.”

Sam had only closed his eyes then, nodding a little to make sure Gabriel knew he had heard, but the archangel knew he would not be able to understand it until the right time. Hell, Gabriel’s not even sure he fully understood it himself. Now he did though, with a bright light being a constant in Sam’s eyes, lighting up at the sight of Dean when compared to his appearance upon his return. Sam got it too. 

They did end up burying the dead, the two of them, side by side with tears streaming down their faces and ears holding tightly to every word spoken, souls searching for any flicker of extra hope offered to them. When Dean came back, fully came back to himself, when Sam threw himself at his brother and laughed, when tears of joy came spilling down his face when Dean laughed back, Gabriel had felt it and known it to be real as sure as anything else. 

The old Dean was gone, buried underneath mounds of uncertainty and guilt. Sam and Gabriel were building him back up again, as long as they needed to, a better Dean, a more confident Dean, one whose selflessness and guilt and self-pity was buried deep in his subconscious.

Together, just like Gabriel had promised, they had buried their dead. And then they set their sights on reawakening life, banishing isolation and doubt in favor of certainty and family. The three of them were stronger than they had ever been, four with Castiel added among their awkward mix, exactly how they liked it, because Purgatory was something they could help Dean move past. 

Purgatory was behind them now. They were forcefully putting it behind them and nothing felt better. 

Together, all four of them look up into the face of a brand new day. A life meant to be shared and hearts made to be molded together. Forever isn’t so faraway after all. This time, it’s Dean who squeezes Gabriel’s hand and just...

Breathes.

**FIN**


End file.
